


Smoke and Revelations

by hannibalmontanabal



Category: Hannibal - Fandom, NBC Hannibal, Nbchannibal - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Gore, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:03:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4864172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannibalmontanabal/pseuds/hannibalmontanabal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal and Will have unfinished business to attend to.</p><p>I haven't written anything in a long while and I've had some ideas kicking around in my head. This is how I've chosen to purge those demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Revelations

Will.  
He smells of dead wood chopped by hand and tossed into a fire place. Smoke of a cold, dark winter’s night clings to him like Devil’s influence.  
Dogs, well-fed and well-bathed.  
Woman, comfortable and sleepy. He wears her scent like a sweater, keeping you out and false ideas in. Sweaters are easy enough to remove.  
There’s the salty stink of sea water, the abrasive odor of motor oil.  
Underneath all of this, the microwaved meals and the unwashed laundry and the scent of a child,  
Underneath all of this olfactory white noise, remains good Will, minus the fever. Minus the sickly sweet smell of illness that once mingled so alluringly with that damned aftershave. (The aftershave is still there, and there is no God above, because you have grown to crave that awful stench. You’d never admit it but as soon as you are out of this silly cage, the first thing you’d like to do is go buy a bottle. Never would you dare wear it, but you could catch the warm fluttering wings of nostalgia, beating delicately in your pulse points every time you opened the bottle. )  
You no longer smell the sour sweat of nightmare, the blessed sticky smell of blood. The scent of bile.  
This dear boy smells healthy. Has the audacity to smell happy. And all without you. Without your help. With the aid of a creature named “Molly.”  
In truth, you’d love to have met his Molly. To have invited her for dinner, and to have seen the sort of woman your Will Graham would see fit to marry.  
Does she have your sense of humor? Your eye for detail? Your eloquent speech patterns?  
Does she lack your culinary talents? Your exquisite taste? Your flair for the dramatic? Would she stand up against pressure? Made stronger for it? Or would she crack under the weight..  
He has new laugh lines. She’s made him smile often, this Molly Graham. This wife. “Kill them all.”  
A test, you propose. Not so different from the ways you’ve tested Will; strengthened him and watched him evolve. Watched him Become. If she survives, perhaps she is worthy of your Will after all. If not, no great loss.


End file.
